“What Turning Forty Means to MeI need to take my pants off as soon as I get home. I didn't used to have to do that. But now I do.”

“And now I need you to do for me what I cannot do for myself. For you to be my eyes when I do not have them. For you to be my hands when I cannot use my own. For you to be my heart when mine is done beating.”

“Do you understand what I’m offering you?""Do you understand that it’s not 1815?""It’s not unusual for Masters to have Consorts.""Yes, and your current Consort’s in my kitchen right now. If you need . . . relieving, talk to her.""As much as it pains me to say it, Amber isn’t you.""I don’t even know what that means. Should I—What? Be flattered that while you don’t like me, you’re willing to sacrifice just to get into my pants?”

“Does anybody know how I feel?Sometimes I'm numb...Sometimes I'm overcome...Does anybody care what's going on?Do I have to wear my scarsLike a badge on my arm?For you to see meI need to release”

“Okay. What do I have to do?”“Unless you plan on creating a door and walking the Paths alone, you really ought to take my hand.”“I mean when we get there, you jerk.”

“I laythere in my black slip dress and wondered if I ought to have worn pants. I mean, who knew what I wasgoing to find up there? What if I had to do some climbing? People might see my underwear.”